


Tunnels

by tinkertoysdamn



Category: Metro 2033 - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Feelings, Gen, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinkertoysdamn/pseuds/tinkertoysdamn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU to Artyom's reunion with Pavel at Venice station.  Artyom deals with his conflicted feelings about a certain Major Mozorov.</p><p>This is pure self-indulgence written while I was still playing the game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tunnels

I followed him up the line through the dark and terrible dangers of the Metro. My bones ached from rattling in the rail car; my head pounded from the dull pops of gunfire when I had the misfortune of actually needing to discharge my weapon. Still, I followed, pursuing a man who had once called me friend, once called me comrade, and then turned me over to his superiors. My jaw still ached from his General’s interrogation. 

I would have words with Pavel; I would have vengeance upon Pavel, though I wasn’t sure what kind. My hands wanted to shake the man, hurt him the same way that he had hurt me. I had trusted him, his words of equality, of a desire for a better life. “All for One and One for All.” 

Pavel and I were no Musketeers. I was not a noble man; I had killed nearly an entire race out of my own fear, my own terror. The Dark Ones still haunted my dreams, stealing my sleep with regret. Did Pavel suffer from such nightmares? Or did his conviction in the Party, in the Red Line, steal all of his doubts?

In Venice station I found him alone. Pavel was in a shabby room resting; the rest of his team was out gathering supplies. His back was to me as I opened the door. I crept in quietly, oh so quietly. What could I do to Pavel before he blinked, before he could raise an alarm? 

In the halls of the Reich I had spared their soldiers, men who executed those who didn’t fit into their ideal of genetic purity. Could I really kill a man who hadn’t done the horrible things they had? Could I take the life of a man who had saved me? He had guided me from those halls of death, from the prisons filled with supposed inferiors, and taken me to neutral territory. 

Pavel had said that he hated that ideology separated good men, that his superiors and mine were enemies despite a common goal. He had called me a friend and a true comrade. Pavel Morozov had been a liar. 

I reached for the lamp, but I could not extinguish the light quickly enough. Pavel turned and saw me, his eyes widening in surprise. It was not the stupefaction of a man who had condemned me to death only to see me alive. No, Pavel’s face broke into a wide grin.

“Artyom!” He embraced me without shame or preamble. He laughed; Pavel had the audacity to laugh.

I tensed waiting for a knife, for a blow to the head, but none came. 

“Artyom, Comrade! I knew it! I knew you would join us!” Pavel was babbling, his joy infectious. 

My stomach rolled. This was the man I had saved from the hangman’s noose; this was the man who had dropped me in the tunnels, sparing me from capture by the Reich. This was also the man who told me that everything would be fine, just to tell the General what I knew and I wouldn’t get hurt. 

My hands twitched at my sides; I didn’t know what to do. Pavel pulled back and he frowned. He tsked and touched my jaw. “Oh, that looks awful, Artyom. What happened, you run into Watchmen in the tunnels?”

Word that I had escaped custody must not have reached him. Pavel did not know I had been interrogated, at least not with violence. He turned from me to get a medkit. I watched him, I could not be sure of anything with Pavel.

He took out some alcohol and gauze. Pavel soaked the bandage and reached for my face. “We’ll clean you up, Comrade. It’s no good if you get infected,” he said.

I could have stopped him; I could have grabbed his wrist and twisted, shattering it like he had shattered my trust. I could have taken him by surprise, watched the light dim from his eyes with my hands wrapped around his throat. But I didn’t. I submitted to the attention, letting Pavel fuss over me like a mother with a child.

The truth was, Pavel was only one who had touched me with kindness in years. I did not know anyone else who would care for me this way. To my commander I was a Ranger who couldn’t be trusted to finish his task alone; to Anna the sniper I was lower than a dog; to the other Rangers I was a source for scorn. Pavel was the only one who treated me like a man. He cleaned my cuts and dressed my wounds, all the while talking.

“So you are here to join my crew?” Pavel asked.

I decided not to lie. “I’m rejoining the Rangers in Polis.”

Pavel’s lip curved into a disappointed frown. “That is too bad. You are good at sneaking around in the dark, but spying—“ He scoffed, throwing the filthy gauze in the trash. “I don’t think it suits you.” 

From someone else it might have been condescending, but from Pavel it was merely the truth. We had spent nearly a week escaping the Reich, navigating the tunnels and the scarred surface. He knew my strengths and weaknesses in battle. He had given me strategies to deal with the shrieking crawling things of the dark.

“But, orders are orders,” Pavel said. He did not notice my cringe. How often had Pavel done things against his better nature in the name of The Red Line? How many others had he betrayed for the greater good? He had guarded my back while I slept and then drugged my drink the moment we had reached safety.

“It will be better once we take D6,” Pavel said. “Once the bunker is ours and the Revolution is over then we’ll have peace. You won’t have to spy, and I can get back to my regular duties. Everyone will have a piece of what’s inside that bunker, no one will be left out; not you, not me, not the soldiers and not the men and women who try to make the Metro a place to live, not just survive.” 

He believed it; every word that came out of Pavel’s mouth was said with such conviction that it was hard not to get swept up in it. His enthusiasm had carried me through the terror, had driven me to heroics when I had least expected it. This man could so easily lead me to greatness and to ruin in the same breath. 

“Come on,” Pavel said, “I’ll show you around Venice, it’ll be a good time.” He extended his hand, an expectant smile on his face.

I hesitated, uncertain if spending more time him was wise. I was still determined to have my revenge, but Pavel had this way of worming past my defenses. Someday, I would have my gun to this man’s head; would I still be able to pull the trigger? 

Pavel’s smile faltered and with it crumbled my resolve. I took Pavel’s hand, squeezing as I hauled myself to my feet. “Tell me all about the new Metro, how it’s going to be,” I said.

Pavel launched into an excited spiel about the new government and how it was going to work. He told of a future of equality and safety for the ordinary people. With every step we took and every word he spoke, the idea of spilling Pavel’s blood seemed more and more remote. 

With distance it is easy to dwell on the anger, to obsess over that one moment over and over again, but it is much more difficult with Pavel living and breathing beside me. He said that I was his friend with the same reverence he held for his beloved Red Line. 

It was terrible, that devotion. I could hate the man when I believed that I was just a tool to him, but to know that I was important to him hurt me more than any indifference. 

Pavel placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me to the marketplace, talking about how he’d found this place that served decent food and how I should really try it. 

I had to stop this war that was coming to the Metro. Pavel felt that he was doing the right thing, but was more violence going to solve anything? It had decimated our world, turning the surface into a wasteland and sending those who remained into the dark to scurry around like rats, scavenging what we could from the ruins. I could not let this happen again.

I was determined to get away from Pavel and find the last remaining Dark One. Maybe with the creature’s help I could prevent another cataclysm and atone for my past sins. Perhaps, I could also save Pavel from himself.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unbeta'd work, hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. I also wrote this a while ago but finally decided to post it since I haven't done anything new in a while.


End file.
